


Can You Feel the New Day Rising?

by orphan_account



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Low Chaos (Dishonored), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8166571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Outsider was supposed to be scared of nothing, but the fact that Corvo Attano’s remarkable presence almost slipped through the cracks made him contemplate a darker future sometimes, and wasn’t that fear?





	

The Outsider was supposed to be scared of nothing, but the fact that Corvo Attano’s remarkable presence almost slipped through the cracks made him contemplate a darker future sometimes, and wasn’t that fear?

Corvo’s story began, as most did, with his orphanage at a young age. The Outsider’s eyes flickered over the wisp of a boy who stood resolutely at the door when a lumber worker came and told him his father had been killed. A world destroyed, a life cut off, and Corvo’s dark eyes never wavered. It was interesting, to see a boy so stoic in the face of death, but then more interesting things caught the Outsider’s attention and his gaze was turned away.

Eight years later saw the same boy clawing his way up from the depths of fighting pits and bloodstained cobblestone, seizing the Blade Verbena in both fists and worming his way into the halls of noblemen. It was a story of triumph and hard work paying off, a story which the Outsider usually didn’t pay attention to. Whether it was fate or something else in the Void, however, the Outsider found he _was_ paying attention. He remembered the dark boy whose father had died, and seeing an orphan fight off countless years of abuse armed with only his fists and sharp mind made memories rise unbidden to the Outsider’s soul. What a queer feeling it was, the reminder that he had once been as human as Corvo.

After that, it seemed like he was always watching. The trip to Dunwall, the Outsider’s primary city of worship, was like a gift handed down from the gods. The Outsider watched with more than a little interest the political way Corvo dealt with his worshippers, being diplomatic and never revealing his true feelings about the new cult he’d stumbled upon.

The first time Corvo came upon a shrine to the Outsider, built with silks and adorned with whale bone charms, the Outsider actually felt the trickle of an emotion. Corvo’s fingers were light and curious upon the shrine, his eyes unfathomable as he examined every inch of it, and the Outsider was struck with a delicious shiver of absolute _fascination_. What did this nineteen-year-old orphan think of all of this? Was he enraptured, as captivated by the Outsider as the Outsider was of him? Or was he merely disdainful, thinking that all of this was cultish nonsense?

The Outsider itched to reveal himself, but the time wasn’t right. No, he sensed that Corvo still had a great destiny looming ahead of him, and the Outsider had to be content with watching over him until then. There were other humans who caught his attention at times—Daud, for example, who hailed from the same city as Corvo and was perhaps only slightly less interesting—but somehow his eyes always turned back to the man who danced on the line of dark and light, of life and death. Corvo’s past, present, and future drew him in like a fly to honey, and he was powerless to stop his interest from growing each day.

When Corvo turned twenty-five and slipped into love as easily as anything else, the Outsider almost interfered. It was the first time he’d ever considered doing something for a human, despite the fact that he knew his interference ofttimes ended poorly. Yet this was _Corvo_ , a man he knew with an almost intimate knowledge, and the Void resonated with a pain the man had yet to experience. The Outsider found himself almost fiercely protective of this tiny human life, and every ripple of Corvo’s future pain had him in Daud’s ear, whispering that the Empress shouldn’t be killed.

The Empress was with child a few years later, and the Outsider was there when she and Corvo murmured to each other, Corvo holding her close with a tenderness unmatched by any human—assassin or otherwise—that the Outsider had observed. To see his Corvo, the one he’d watched since that fateful day of the lumber mill, act so warm was a shock in and of itself. How was it possible that a boy who could kill in one breath and laugh harshly in the next had turned into a man who could hold someone with such careful hands? The Outsider had an almost selfish desire to examine the assassin’s hands, see if they’d been replaced with someone else’s in the few moments he had been whispering to Daud. What a ridiculous notion. He did not act on it.

When Emily had become a young woman not much older than Corvo when his father had died, Daud used the powers bestowed upon him by the Outsider to snatch her away, and to throw Corvo’s life into chaos. The villains of the story were quick with their blame, and Corvo was dealt with efficiently, his grief given no time to fester before he was offered a world of physical pain.

This time the Void trembled with the Outsider’s rage, and though he was sworn not to interfere too deeply, he broke his oath to ease Corvo’s pain slightly. As usual, his interference was not a welcome thing—Corvo’s torturers were astounded by Corvo’s vitality and ability to remain silent, but it only pushed them into inflicting worse pains. The Outsider eventually gave up to grimly watch the proceedings, his soul feeling very tired indeed as Corvo bore injury to both heart and body as stoically as he had when he’d carried his father’s death as a child.

If there were things that could destroy the man, Corvo didn’t let anyone find them. After months— _months_ —of this torture, impatience ran high and the plan to simply execute the assassin was put into motion. If things were to end this way, the Outsider had no idea what he’d do, but it would start with increasing the Rat Plague Granny Rags was trying to dedicate to him. Her meddling was noticed, but it certainly wasn’t appreciated, especially considering how Corvo’s untimely arrival after trying to find a cure was one of the things that facilitated this.

Yet Corvo managed to escape an almost guaranteed fate yet again, and it was then that the Outsider could no longer hold himself back. He eased himself into the man’s dreams and spoke quiet words of encouragement while Corvo learned how to use the powers the Outsider gifted him, playing the part of an apathetic yet interested bystander, all the while marvelling at the fact that he could finally meet and speak to this soul he now considered _his_.

When he finally allowed Corvo to set eyes on him, there was a true thrill in it. The eyes that had been searching for things for so long were now watching him with an inscrutable expression, something akin to the time when Corvo had discovered his shrine. It was one of the many expressions the Outsider had observed Corvo wearing, and he found he wanted to coax more expressions from the unmasked face Corvo showed him in the dream. Instead he bestowed his Mark upon Corvo, binding the two of them together indefinitely.

It was the first Mark he’d bestowed since the Lonely Rat Boy, who had a met an unfortunate demise again due to the Outsider’s interference. It had made him reluctant to give it to Corvo, but Corvo had nothing else left and the Outsider knew he’d go after Emily Kaldwin with or without the powers. If he was walk hand-in-hand with misfortune, he may as well have one hand marked with the power to ward off smaller demons, even if it conjured bigger ones.

In all cases, the feeling of getting the Mark was different for both the user and the Outsider, and this time was yet another feeling the Outsider had never experienced. Instead of an itch, an aching pain, or a crippling fear, this Mark was met with a rush of pleasure that made the Outsider aware his body was still that of a human. Corvo seemed to experience the same sensation, but a confused tightening of his eyes and a slight intake of breath was all that showed it. After the process was over, the Outsider handed Corvo the Heart and allowed him to flee into waking reality, but not before the fascinating little human shot him a look with eyes that were absolutely _burning_. How was it Corvo seemed to see the Outsider’s soul when a soul was something the Outsider had long since gotten rid of?

The Outsider began to pay attention to more than just Corvo now, his view broadening so that he could observe the world around the assassin. The fact that many of the people ‘helping’ Corvo were simply using him made the Outsider’s fury simmer, but he could not attempt to affect fate in such a huge way without expecting an enormous backlash of consequence. Instead, he came to Granny Rags for the first time in many, many years, and he spoke sweetly to her in a way he never had _. Corvo Attano will not contract the Rat Plague, you understand. And you will do all in your power to help him._

Her milky, blind eyes roved the air for the Outsider, but it was a lesson in futility, and in the end she agreed readily as long as he came back to her. He assured her he would, and she began making bone charms for the assassin, humming happy, off-key tunes under her breath. When Corvo came to her, the Outsider watched with wary eyes as Granny Rags sent him on missions that could threaten his life, and breathed in relief when Corvo returned unharmed. Since when had the Outsider had to breathe?

Corvo’s blood had to have sung with the nearby presence of a rune Granny Rags had made, and for the first time Corvo used the Heart the Outsider had personally moulded for him. The Outsider wondered if Corvo recognized the voice whispering secrets into his mind, the voice of the woman he’d once loved, who’d begged the Outsider to use her soul to help her lover and her daughter. For Jessamine, the Outsider might have hesitated—no matter how good an Empress, her soul should not linger and risk being corrupted—yet for Corvo, the Outsider had seen to it that this memento of Jessamine was delivered. He couldn’t tell what kind of expression Corvo wore under the mask, but when he held the Heart his shoulders loosened ever so slightly, likely subconsciously, and the relaxation made the Outsider, in turn, lose some tension. What an odd experience.

When Corvo found Granny Rags’ shrine and the Rune, he held no hesitation in seizing his prize, and his form held little surprise when the Outsider appeared before him again.

 _Be careful, Corvo,_ he opened with, and felt a thrill at saying the assassin’s name so familiarly. Corvo listened with rapt attentiveness, never betraying his thoughts with an unnecessary movement, and when the assassin went to go after Campbell, the Outsider was left with a feeling of almost… disappointment. Corvo was by and away the most interesting person he’d ever come across, and he wanted to know more about what was inside Corvo’s mind. Yet even though he could read most hearts, the still waters of Corvo Attano’s were a clouded pool to him and he was unable to pierce it.

Corvo didn’t kill Campbell, who should by all rights be considered the Outsider’s greatest enemy. So why was it then, that the Outsider felt more interested than ever in the killer who didn’t kill?

Corvo’s mission into the House of Pleasure was a delight to watch, simply because Corvo was a man who didn’t fall to the moral depravity and corruption other men fell to. Corvo’s eyes lingered only on the women who could provide him with information, and his soft footsteps led him only to the bedroom where Emily Kaldwin was kept. He’d already dealt with his targets before even going to the Golden Cat—taking a mission from the thug leader Slackjaw—and the Outsider was overcome with a feeling of pure awe at how the assassin could readily allow the men who’d been keeping his Emily to live. Perhaps the answer was in the gentle way Corvo held Emily to him, reassuring her quietly and showing her a visage completely free of the blood splatters that would’ve come had he killed his targets and gotten into an inevitable scuffle with the guards.

The next mission found Corvo at another shrine, and the Outsider had to remind himself that he didn’t play favourites. Yet he found himself speaking before he could stop to consider his words, found himself commending Corvo and telling the man Sokolov wasn’t special the way Corvo was. Because despite all of the Outsider’s wisdom, apathy, and neutrality, Corvo _was_ special. He was special in a way Daud, Granny Rags, Delilah, and all the other people who had been gifted the Outsider’s Mark weren’t. With every bone charm he found, with every Rune he used, his uniqueness was only confirmed; the Outsider would feel a rush of pleasure and satisfaction he’d never felt from any of the others. Corvo bore his Mark, yet remained uncorrupted.

Corvo proved this again when, instead of torturing Sokolov, he used diplomatic means to get the man to talk, spending his own coin to buy the man’s secrets. Afterwards, in a quiet moment of solitude, Corvo studied his Mark as if waiting for the Outsider’s input on what he’d done. The Outsider rarely—if ever—appeared to those who called, yet he found himself on edge, waiting for Corvo to call out with that low, rough voice that was smooth water rasping against sand. Corvo didn’t speak, however, and the Outsider was left with a sharp pang of disappointment. Could it be he’d truly wanted to converse with the man? Why was it that he, a god by all rights, gave so much thought to the inner workings of this mere mortal?

The Void shivered in desire of an answer, but there was none to be found. The Outsider continued his watch, waiting for Corvo to delve into darkness by killing a woman who spent her days in opulence while others starved, but the assassin astounded his predictions by sparing yet another person. This time, after letting her go, Corvo actively went to seek out one of the Outsider’s shrines, and the Outsider was only too happy to oblige the eyes that roved the shrine from behind a mask.

_Coming from a party, Corvo? Is that what you dreamed of, all those months in Coldridge Prison while waiting for the executioner? Wealth, beautiful women in the latest fashions, laughing and drinking Tyvian wine?_

Corvo offered no opinion on this, but the Outsider saw a flash of surprise behind the mask, as if Corvo hadn’t quite expected the personification of the Void to gently taunt with the mirth of someone whose body was warm and alive. The Outsider was amused at the reaction—another first for him—and as he went on to speak in length about Lady Boyle, he wondered what other reactions he could achieve if he only interfered a little more. No, such a notion would upset the balance and have Corvo killed. Yet still, he wondered.

The Outsider continued to watch over Corvo, wishing to slip into the man’s roiling dreams as Corvo prepared to go once again to the place that held only memories and ghosts for him now. Once a place of quietude and peace where he had lived with the woman he’d loved, the Dunwall Tower was now an enemy stronghold that had been taken over by a man Corvo had every right to want dead. The Outsider peered into Corvo’s dreams and was not surprised to see memories of the Empress and her death, but there were other things there too. A caress, a murmur of a sweet nothing, the corner of a smiling mouth. How was it that Corvo could be dreaming of such beautiful things when he was living in a world of plagues, monsters, and people who were a mixture of both? In all his millennia of observation, the Outsider had never been as curious as he was about how Corvo would handle this new trial.

After Corvo broadcasted the Lord Regent’s confession to the world, the Outsider was slack-jawed with wonder. He should’ve expected this from Corvo, this calm and collected way of destroying a man’s life without actually taking it, yet he’d been convinced he knew a human’s heart well enough to predict what they’d do when it came to a decision this big. The Outsider had been… wrong. Completely and utterly wrong, in a way he hadn’t been since the time he was human.

Jessamine’s Heart in hand, Corvo found another one of the Outsider’s shrines and the Outsider had to gather himself before he appeared to the assassin. Corvo was unruffled by his presence, showing an uncanny ability to predict where the Outsider would appear before it happened. When the Outsider revealed himself, Corvo studied him with eyes weighted as if in judgement. As if he thought _he_ could judge the Outsider’s worth instead of the other way around. It was unsettling.

_Here you are, Corvo, within the high walls of your enemy's stronghold._

The more the Outsider spoke, the more knowledge gathered in the depths of Corvo’s eyes. What was he thinking? Just what had he assumed he’d figured out?

_What will that mean in the days to come, I wonder. I've lived a long, long time, and these are the moments I wait for._

He hadn’t meant to let that last sentence slip out, yet it fell from his lips all the same. Corvo acknowledged both the fact that it was a mistake and the context it was placed in, his head inclining a little and his grip tightening reflexively on the Heart. It seemed that just as the Outsider observed Corvo, Corvo observed the Outsider. How many humans had tried to figure him out, only to fail because they couldn’t understand he was an otherworldly being of the Void? However, none of those humans had been the dark little orphan who’d raised and collapsed an Empire in equal measures.

Corvo returned to the small home he’d made for himself within a nest of snakes and, of course, he was bitten. The Outsider was thrown into a rage even greater than the one he’d had when Corvo was tortured, and rats ran rampant throughout the city. There was a moment, one that could change the entire course of fate, when Corvo’s soul brushed the Void. It was full of grief, radiating a sadness that turned the Void colours the Outsider had never seen before, but the lack of bitterness was astonishing. The Outsider could’ve pulled Corvo into the Void where his soul would no longer have to face the trials of being human, yet he found he couldn’t bring himself to reach out. He hadn’t even been able to debate a possible solution when Corvo’s will jerked the assassin back into a body he forced awake.

_Here you are at last, in a ruined and drowning world, held captive by the man who killed your Empress, the assassin Daud. Your friends poisoned you and dumped your body in the river. Did they do it to protect themselves, so no one would ever know what they'd done? Or was it because they were a single move away from controlling an empire, and they knew you'd never let them manipulate Emily? Maybe none of these. Perhaps that's just the nature of man._

The Outsider’s speech was laced with the bitter undertones Corvo didn’t have. Corvo was frozen at his voice, listening as if the Outsider were telling him all the secrets of the universe. Was Corvo jaded enough to kill now? Had his soul been destroyed by this betrayal? Somehow, the Outsider didn’t think so—the soul he’d glimpsed wasn’t heavy enough to be corrupt.

Corvo escaped, as he so often did even without the Outsider’s intervention, and the Outsider was struck with the eerie feeling that he could not predict what this man would do next. Seeking out Daud was a given, but what would happen after that? The Outsider watched with an almost childish eagerness as two men from the same place and generation clashed. He had so liked Daud, but after Daud had taken Corvo’s only love away the Outsider’s view of him had greatly diminished. Daud was a failed experiment, in the Outsider’s eyes.

Corvo… spared him. Corvo, who had been tortured and devastated by actions stemming from the bloody hands of the assassin bowed in front of him, walked away. The place where the Outsider’s heart would’ve been felt odd, a clenching in his chest stealing his breath away as Corvo paused to look over his shoulder one last time at the world’s greatest assassin. Then beyond Daud, where he seemed to be almost looking into the Void, looking at the Outsider himself. The moment stretched for mere seconds—for an eternity—before Corvo turned and left.

 _I would move mountains for that man,_ the Outsider thought, and couldn’t believe that, somehow, his _own_ personality was becoming a mystery in the face of Corvo’s glances.

He followed Corvo down into the sewers, where Granny Rags was devising a form of chaos the Outsider hadn’t been paying attention to. Crafty old woman… crafty, but still nothing short of obedient, as she asked Corvo for help rather than trying to kill him outright. This one time was a time that saw the Outsider choosing the correct prediction; that Corvo wouldn’t kill the thug leader Slackjaw. Yet, again, Corvo did something else unexpected by discovering Granny Rags’ secret then incapacitating her instead of killing her. Did he realize she was the cause of this Rat Plague? Did he care?

The Outsider thought Corvo would use Jessamine’s Heart to find him, but instead of doing so, Corvo did away with all formalities and strode to the shrine as if he’d known it was there all along. He didn’t even seem interested in the Rune he pocketed, too busy searching for the Outsider with an edge of impatience, as if he truly wished the Void’s persona to reveal himself. Unable to deny Corvo a thing he wanted, the Outsider flickered into existence and distorted the reality that wasn’t his.

_You find your way into such interesting places, Corvo. At the eye of the storm raging between Granny Rags and this man who has lived his whole life with a cleaver in one hand and a bottle in the other. Crawling out of those flooded ruins, winding your way back to the pub where you last saw Emily? Where is she now? How does it feel now, knowing your allies betrayed you? Strange how there's always a little more innocence left to lose._

His words, in hindsight, sounded like taunts, but Corvo correctly interpreted the fact that the questions were truly curious. He didn’t make a sound, not to answer or to berate, and the Outsider filled in the silence as if he couldn’t bear to let it continue on.

_And Daud - the man who killed the Empress. You had him in the palm of your hand, and you let him walk away? You fascinate me._

There was a hint of tenderness in the last words that the Outsider hadn’t expected to hear within his own voice, and his shock shook the entire Void. Corvo’s knowing eyes were the only thing that grounded him, that and the feeling of connection when Corvo slid the Rune he’d collected snugly into his pocket. If he was interested, disgusted, or amused by the Outsider’s confession, he didn’t show it. He merely watched the Outsider in stoic silence, then turned to follow his fate wherever it may lead him.

Incidentally, it was back to the vestiges of the ‘Loyalists,’ where Corvo searched for Emily with the relentless determination of a bloodhound on a scent. He shot guards down with sleeping darts, hid their slumbering bodies, stole evidence out from under noses until he found a way to subdue everyone in and around the pub without having to kill a one. He even rescued the brilliant men who were well on their way to a cure for the rat plague, and a woman who had no cure but some sentimental value. The Outsider couldn’t hold back an altogether too human smile.

The final showdown of Corvo’s being outcast was anticlimactic, yet still the height of all things the Outsider found curious. Pendleton and Martin—it was odd the Outsider had bothered to remember their names, but their association with Corvo had made it so—were already dead. Poisoned by a contemplative Havelock, who didn’t even notice Corvo slip in to the room and crouch atop a light fixture.

The Outsider forgot himself in that moment, when Corvo eyed the man standing between him and the fate of the empire. Despite the numerous times Corvo had stayed his hand, stood by intriguing values, and chosen the path few men dared to travel, the Outsider still expected him to corrupt himself in the end. This betrayal must’ve been almost more devastating than the first. The Outsider was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t realize his existence was slightly bleeding into reality, his breath warming the air near Corvo’s ear, until the assassin paused and cast a glance over his shoulder.

The Outsider still wasn’t visible, and he was ready to pull his presence back, when the Empress’s protector did something no man had dared before. He reached up and tilted his mask away from his face, smiled in slight amusement, and brought one finger up to his lips in a universal shushing sign. The Outsider was so shaken that for a second he thought Corvo had killed Havelock when he slid the mask back down and shot the man through the chest with his wrist bow.

It was only when Corvo Blinked to the ground and sauntered over to Havelock with the easy grace of a cat that the Outsider took a second look and realized the bolt sticking out of Havelock was a shallow, fast-acting sleeping dart. Then, something within him that hadn’t brushed his heart since he was human rose up. The strange emotion burst through his lips in a chuckle, and soon he was laughing harder than he had even as a human at how utterly ridiculous a situation this was. Corvo, for his part, let out a soft snort under his breath as if he knew exactly what the Outsider was doing, then grabbed the keys to Emily’s room to free the girl he loved as his own. His secret daughter, and the new Empress of the Empire of the Isles. This part of the story was over.

There were other hardships of course, the business with Delilah Copperspoon taking over Emily’s throne the next bad thing (though the Outsider bestowed his Mark unto Emily to make up for it), but none quite so worrisome for Corvo as an entire Empire trying to bring him to his knees. His saving of Emily and genteel spirit when it came to targets spread wide throughout the land, and all people developed a new respect for him that began to make even some of them interesting.

The rat plague was cured because Corvo saved Sokolov and Piero, and many loved ones were reunited when Emily settled into her throne and began to create order. The Empire that had been edging into a dark age suddenly boomed into a golden one under Emily the Wise, and Corvo stood quietly beside her the entire time, radiating a light that even Emily’s couldn’t eclipse. Perhaps no one else saw it, because more eyes were on the Empress, but the Outsider did because he was watching.

He was always watching Corvo Attano, and over the years the two of them amused each other many more times. Corvo rarely spoke to him, but after every demonstration of infinite patience with the more corrupt side of humanity, Corvo would lift his mask just a little to show the Outsider a small grin on his mouth. It changed even the Void, where memories of horrors began to morph into places Corvo’s touch had transformed. Whether it was the Outsider’s hidden will or the Void itself wrapping around Corvo, there was no way to know. It could’ve even been both.

Corvo brushed the Void many times, but when he finally decided he’d had his fill of life, his soul tumbled into the Void without complaint. To the Outsider, Corvo had always remained the dark, youthful man of his prime, and the Void reflected that onto his soul as Corvo straightened before him and arched an eyebrow. His mind was finally completely opened to the Outsider like this, yet…

Yet everything that resided there was just as he’d demonstrated throughout life. There were no hidden hatreds, and the way Corvo thought was still a mystery. The Outsider had passed many souls into the afterlife, and all of them had clung to dark secrets that may have not even manifested during their living hours. Corvo did not.

_Ah, Corvo. The one man I’ve never been able to predict, who has surpassed every assassin in this millennia without even having to assassinate. Are you finally ready to be laid to rest? Will you go to your previous Empress and wait for your current one with her?_

Those dark, unfathomable eyes crinkled at the corners just a little, and Corvo offered the Outsider a slight shake of his head. The Outsider was unsettled by this reaction, uncomfortable with his own role as the reaper in the Void. There had been people who had refused the afterlife, yes, but those hadn’t been people the Outsider had cared so much about. To build such an interesting bond with the man before him and then break it in betrayal to complete his duty…

_I truly don’t understand you, Corvo Attano. What peace can be found by dwelling in the Void? There is nothing for you here save a view of Emily’s great Empire eventually crumbling, as empires are apt to._

Corvo stepped forward, his eyes still full of mirth, and…

Touched the Outsider. Laid a hand on the Outsider’s shoulder, as if the Outsider were some human who could accept casual contact. It was beyond disconcerting, and it was… warm. Corvo’s dead hand upon the Outsider’s shoulder was warmer than anything the Outsider had ever felt, and he was filled with a sudden influx of Corvo’s calm, confident thoughts. Corvo wasn’t staying for the view of the world, or out of fear of the afterlife. He was staying because he believed he still had one more mission. To alleviate the loneliness he perceived in the Void.

 _And what of your Empress?_ The Outsider found himself asking. Corvo’s answer was to pull Jessamine’s Heart from his coat and offer it back to the Outsider. The piece of her soul that remained within the Heart was as steady as Corvo’s, glowing with a soft gratitude and acceptance. The only hint of hardness was the feeling that if the Outsider dared to harm Corvo’s soul, Jessamine would return from the afterlife with a vengeance to steal away with her lover and leave the Outsider to his solitude. He let his feelings for Corvo filter into the Heart, and Jessamine’s soul was so satisfied that her satisfaction buoyed what was in the Heart to the afterlife, leaving the Outsider not having to do a thing.

 _I truly don’t understand you,_ The Outsider said again, but he didn’t object to Corvo’s wishes. The warmth of Corvo’s hand was somehow too comforting for the Outsider to even attempt to raise a dispute. And if Corvo’s presence over the centuries stabilized the Void to the point where its personification could move onto the afterlife with the assassin he had fallen in love with, well, that wasn’t a bad trade off.

It only meant the Outsider wasn’t a suitable name anymore.


End file.
